A Touch of Courage (Troyler AU)

Chapter 35: Breathe

"Today, I looked up how long it would take to drown."

- Forest Blakk, Breathe

*Trigger Warning*

Troye's POV

Troye woke up feeling groggy. Brightness made him cringe and blink back tears when he finally opened his eyes.

Four white walls, fluorescent lights glaring overhead, and Troye in the middle of the room, strapped to a gurney. Troye tested the movement of his body and found himself tied down, just like the last time, arms at his sides, restraints in three places, and the same around his legs. The two across his torso made it difficult to get full breaths, and the one around his forehead kept him from turning left or right to look at the room. Not that it mattered: the room was empty.

Troye closed his eyes and felt his chest constrict, making his struggling breaths even more labored. This time he knew he couldn't take days of this. He'd go mad. There was no window, but Troye still felt the absence of light outside. Darkness blanketed this corner of the world, and most of it slept.

A constant pounding set his head to ache. He knew distantly that the sound was just his heart beating. And that within a few hours he would tune it out and then go crazy trying to hear it again. But nothing could be worse that the growing need to urinate. The pressure would eventually be too much, and then the filth and stench would cover him. He'd been here before. Still, he fought the need. Oh God, how long could he last?

The door opened and Troye heard footsteps moving closer. Troye couldn't see him until he stepped up beside the gurney. Dr. Mengele's dark curls looked a mess, but he was dressed as impeccably as always and looked very tired. Troye struggled to speak, but couldn't think of anything new to say; nothing that would convince him.

Dr. Mengele didn't wait for him, merely nodded down at him. "Good, you're awake."

Troye breathed in as deeply as his restraints would allow. "Please help me."

Dr. Mengele smiled lightly, though it looked strained. "I am helping you, Troye. Or trying to. You're being quite stubborn."

Tears burned at the edge of his eyes. Troye didn't want Dr. Mengele to see him cry or beg, like the whimpering thing he would become if he stayed here.

"Please. I'll do whatever you want. Be whatever you want. Just don't leave me here." He'd die. It wouldn't take days this time. Just a few hours of absolute misery before his heart gave out and he withered away to nothing.

Dr. Mengele was quiet a few minutes. Tears seeped down Troye's cheeks. He wasn't going to help. He was going to leave him hear and Troye would have to feel every second of falling apart.

"You know how to make this stop."

Troye's head was already shaking a no in the tiny centimeter of space he had under the restraints before he'd finished speaking.

Dr. Mengele's smile was a little sad. "I didn't think so. You're still not ready to accept yourself."

Troye's heart pounded even as he tried to keep his breathing under control. Did he have any idea how hard it was for Troye to stay human in this place? How trying to keep hold of who he was pushed him to the very limits of his brain? Accept himself?

Dr. Mengele's shoes clacked on the hard floor as he walked around Troye, and the sound bounced around the room. Troye couldn't see him, but Troye knew he was being studied clinically.

"You're only making things harder for yourself, Troye. If you believe things cannot get worse, then you are wrong."

Troye's head spun. He could lie there forever, rot in his own stench, and starve if De. Mengele forced him to go without food.  But he still couldn't do it.  Those were his only options: give Dr. Mengele the impossible, or stay here until he died.

Dr. Mengele walked back around until he was in Troye's line of sight. Troye couldn't keep from flinching. He stared at Troye as though Troye was a bug in a jar he was waiting to suffocate.

"You should know, Troye, that your father has approved the use of more extreme measures should this fail to convince you."

The words slammed into Troye with such force that he was convinced, for a terrifying moment, that he would retch. He clenched his eyes shut, trying not to think about the white box around him. His lungs hurt from lack of air. 

He was a quivering mass of jelly and had to swallow convulsively until the feeling passed and his eyes fluttered open again.

"I can't."

Dr. Mengele sighed and looked toward the door, but Troye couldn't turn his head to see what he saw.

"Shame. I'll check on you in a few days to see if you've changed your mind."

He turned and moved away, leaving Troye to stare at the white ceiling and hear the only other human heartbeat move further away. He felt himself jerk against his restraints despite himself and whimpered as the white walls and ceiling seemed to close in on him.

Troye tried to take a breath. He heard himself whisper, "Okay."

The footsteps stopped, but Dr. Mengele didn't move closer. Just waited patiently for Troye to continue.

"I'll do it. But I-I want-"

"Yes?"

Troye swallowed as he felt himself finally lose control of his breathing. The world lost its grip and clarity around him as he thought about what he was about to do.

"I want to talk to my father."

The silence that followed held an element of surprise, as though those were the last words Dr. Mengele had expected to hear.

"I'm afraid that is not possible."

His mind was sliding. He could feel my eyes wanting to go out, my vision guttering like candle flames.  

He tried to keep his eyes open, but his eyelids were so heavy that he just closed them, trying to focus on his breath and not the nausea sweeping through him.

"I want to talk to him," Troye repeated, and let the total strength of unconsciousness take him away.